


Bat in the Moon

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019), The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band Book - Mötley Crüe & Neil Strauss
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Awkward Flirting, Falling In Love, First Crush, Gay, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Romance, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Tattoos, like guys its a REALLY slow burn, tattoo artist au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28022643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: TATTOO AU:Mick Mars is a tattoo artist living a lonely life, feeling older than he really was, and focusing solely on his work.Nikki Sixx is just a young man running wild in the night, wondering if he'd ever truly belong anywhere.He soon finds that he does belong somewhere; in the chair of Mick's tattoo parlor, under the gun, hoping he won't run out of skin before he works up the courage to ask him out.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Bat in the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Couple things to note:
> 
> -Each chapter will be a different year, leading up to 1998 as a timeline of Nikki's feelings growing through the years  
> -I cannot remember all of Nikki's tattoos exactly, let alone all of them in order, so I will be making most of them up! Please forgive me, lol  
> -This will be a slow burn, and SFW  
> -There is no Motley Crue in this, Nikki is in a different band with Vince and Tommy  
> -There will be many cameos for current people!

Usually someone's first tattoo was one they went to get with a friend. Probbaly a best one. Or maybe a mom, a dad, brother, or even a roommate perhaps. At least there would be _someone_ to offer support as you sat jittery in the chair, wondering if it would really hurt as bad as they all said.

Unfortunately for Nikki Sixx, he had none of those people in his life to go with him. His mom was dead to him, his dad a ghost, his brother nonexistent, and all his friends and roommates long since run away. Of course, it was only logical that an orphan at the age of seventeen who was living in his car not buy a new toothbrush with stolen cash, but to instead go get a tattoo. _Everyone_ cool and badass had tattoos... If he wanted to fit in, _because right now he most certainly did not,_ he would need a nice one to show off. Nikki couldn't afford a big one just yet, but he was sick of waiting and trying to save up. _70 bucks would just have to do._

He walked through the glass door of the tattoo parlor at the lonely hour of 11PM, hating the loud bell above him that clattered as he entered, and painfully, embarrassingly, _completely_ alone.

 _"Hey."_ The dude behind the counter called out. His voice was deep, scratchy, not caring at all of Nikki's harsh appearance. He was large, bald, with a brown goatee nearly two feet long. He was reading a Playboy as if no one else was around to see the tits on the pages- _and actually, no one really was-_ and his ugly eyes hardly glanced over to even look at the kid entering the shop. Nikki's teased hair, leather pants, high heeled boots, and torn tank top were unusual in most places of business and certainly gathered enough wrong attention, but Nikki assumed that perhaps here, he fit right in...

Nikki stood awkwardly at the door. There were drawings framed and taped to the deep red walls of naked women, bikes, demons, angels, skulls, more skulls, and even more angels who were, uh... fuck, having _sex_. _Badass_. The black wood floor creaked under his boots as Nikki took a step forward. He examined the decor as the dull buzzing of a tattoo gun filled the crowded void. Skulls were scattered about like simple placeholders, and a vase of dead roses was set aside on a table in the waiting area. The faint smell of cigarettes hung in the air, and it was comforting to Nikki's anxious brain. 

He looked over and saw a glorious red Gibson hung high on the wall out of reach. It was the center piece without trying to be; it was as if the demons and angels on the walls were all looking right at it...

"You got an appointment?" The _rhino_ of a man behind the counter spoke again. Nikki looked at him and saw those evil eyes staring back.

"Oh, uh, no... Do I need one?" Nikki stood taller, trying to seem older than he was.

"No. Boss will be done in five, sit down." Back to the naked ladies he went, as the man read on.

And back to the buzzing white noise of needles dancing on skin Nikki went. He sat on the tattered leather couch, inhaling deep to gather the scent of nicotine in the air. His heart calmed down, so Nikki grabbed the book of tattoos on the coffee table and began flipping through it.

_Eagles? Lame. Flames? Stupid... Wolves, lions, bears? Not his style._

Skulls, snakes, daggers, chicks, naked chicks, bikes, naked chicks _on_ bikes, Nikki sighed in frustration as page after page, everything seemed so perfect and yet so, _so_...

So _popular._ Nikki may be sharp as a dagger, love his naked ladies, and bite like a snake, but... He wasn't popular. _Everyone_ had tattoos like these, one in ten probably even had these exact drawings on their skin. Nikki was an outcast without trying to be, and to try and stamp himself as the usual felt... _wrong_. A tattoo was supposed to be _special_.

Nikki tossed the book back down, and looked over at the guy tattooing. He couldn't see much from around the corner; he saw a waterfall of black hair, a thick waist with a black shirt tucked in, and a leather-clad ass sitting on the stool. A feminine arm was tossed over the back of the tattoo chair, and Nikki assumed whoever this guy was, was working on a sexy rib piece. Someone had told him once those hurt the worst, but this girl he couldn't see made no sound of discomfort at all.

After an eternity of Nikki making stories in his head about what that bear and wolf could possibly be fighting to the death over in that drawing across the room, the buzzing stopped. It was then that Nikki could hear the quiet playing of a 70's _Journey_ record coming from somewhere. It sounded like their self-titled from '75. _Interesting choice..._

The man sat back, and Nikki could almost see his face. His skin was pale, the arm facing Nikki sporting two tattoos; one a man playing guitar, and the other something weird like an alien skull. He exchanged some words with his client, appeared to wipe her new work off with a paper towel, and bid her farewell. When she stood up and walked around the corner to pay the rhino man, however, Nikki was suddenly more pink than a sunburnt fucking pig. She was topless, and continued to be topless as she strutted over. Her perky tits bounced with each step on her red heels. She pulled the cash from her short's back pocket, spoke softly to the man, showed him the gorgeous new flower piece, and finally picked her shirt off the mahogany counter. She draped it back over her thin body, and walked out.

Nikki's eyes followed her through the door. _Wow... where the fuck was he?_

"Boss will see you in a moment," The man chuckled to Nikki, breaking his daydream.

"Uh... Okay," Nikki swallowed.

The black haired man cleaned his area fast with careful attention, then disappeared in the back.  
And soon enough, probably one exact moment as the rhino had promised, things were quiet as the record was flipped.

"Boss will see you now. Good luck, _tiny virgin,_ " He snickered as Nikki stood up.

 _"Excuse me,_ fucker?" Nikki stopped by the counter with hate in his hidden eyes.

 _"Just go sit down."_ The man flipped the page to ogle at more naked women. Nikki started to seethe red hot deep inside, debating if he wanted to yell or just _punch_ the fucker first-

"It _means_ , you have no _tattoos."_

Nikki's fiery eyes snapped from that bald bastard over to the only tattoo booth in the room yet again. The same guy, who turned out to be a rather short little fucker, was staring back up at him. His soft voice had instantly drowned the fire inside Nikki's chest... He took a drag on a cigarette, and went over to sit back down. He moved sorta stiff, ignoring the long hair and bangs in his face as he set up a new gun with the cigarette in his mouth.

"So, what can I draw for ya?" He spoke soft again, quiet, so unlike the other guy over there...

"Uh..." Nikki swallowed. He sat on the large adjacent chair in front of the man. It looked like it was stolen from an old dentist office... Nikki's nerves instantly skyrocketed, feeling suddenly under the spotlight and ready for a surgery where he'd remain awake through it all. "I-I'm not sure. I couldn't pick anything from the book. They all seem so... _overused_. I'm sorry." Nikki suddenly cursed himself at the choice of words- _this little gremlin of a man was probably the one that had drawn all those!_

 _"Heh_. Don't blame ya." The artist put a fresh set of skin tight gloves on. He chewed a little on the butt of his cig, then met Nikki's eyes past obsidian shadows of those scraggly bangs. "What were you thinking?"

Nikki sat silent. He couldn't even remember what he'd just been asked. This guy... his eyes, were... _fuck, they were so blue, like goddamn ice!_ What was he supposed to say again? That smooth voice was haunting, melting from between those thin lips puckered on his cigarette.

"No idea," Nikki finally sighed. He looked away from the man's intense stare that seemed to intoxicate him. "What's your name?" Nikki hoped his blush wasn't as bright as it felt. _Was this just nerves? Why was his heart on fire all of a sudden!?_

"Well, if you don't pick I'll just make something up. I'm Mick, by the way. Mick Mars."

 _Mick_ pulled the cigarette from his mouth and scuffed it dead in the ashtray by the mirror. Nikki stared at him again as Mick's eyes were busy putting ink in the gun.

"Thats fine," Nikki cleared his throat. It didn't really need to be cleared, but the dull playing of Journey in the background was too fucking soft. _Like Mick's hair._ It was teased like Nikki's own, but past the short layers ending at his ears it flowed in long smooth strands down to his ass. _Magnificent_. But that was an intense word Nikki had never used before, so maybe it _was_ just those nerves messing with his brain...

"Sit back," Mick nodded. His voice was even sweeter as he wet a paper towel with something from an unlabeled bottle. Nikki leaned back and did his best to fall limp on the chair. Mick wiped his upper forearm, and it was cold. Then he pulled out the razor, and gingerly shaved the bare tan skin over Nikki's bicep. Nikki didn't think getting tattoos felt so _intimate.._. He was blushing again.

"Got an idea already?" Nikki smirked. As the seconds ticked by, he focused on the bass-line of _Of a Lifetime,_ and found himself relaxing.

 _"Yup_. How old are you by the way? Usually I ID people before these things, but lucky for _you_ you're my last client and I'm fuckin' exhausted." Mick winked at him, and Nikki's stomach decided right then to try and escape.

"Uh, oh-" _Fuck him._ "I-I'm seventeen."

Nikki was surprised at himself. Usually he lied to _everyone_ about his age; by now, according to West Hollywood, he was a 22 year old famous musician eating pussy with every meal and rich out his ass. But _Mick Mars_ here seemed to drill right through his tough-guy facade immediately, asking simply for the truth and immediately getting it.

"Huh... Well, from now on you're _eighteen_. I don't need a fucking lawsuit for tattooing a kid," Mick chuckled. He tossed the razor to the trash. He missed, and it fell on the floor with a little clatter. Mick ignored it as he spoke again and got the gun ready. Nikki's anxiety fizzled away as he too laughed. "And don't fucking move, or you'll end up with a crooked dick drawn on your arm."

Nikki laughed a little louder, and relaxed even more. Mick held the buzzing gun near his skin.

"Regretting your life choices yet?" Mick's hooded blue eyes stared down at Nikki.

" _No_ ," Nikki mumbled softly with a wide grin.

Tattoos didn't actually hurt as bad as they'd all said. Or maybe Nikki just didn't notice the pain because he was too busy staring at Mick, pretending to watch the black ink stain his skin forever and _not_ those sweet blue eyes.

Mick worked slow, every now and then wiping the extra ink that dripped down, and each time his gloved hand rubbed Nikki's skin the kid nearly jumped. Nikki forced his eyes forward at one point, questioning his heart, and noticed another guitar on the wall. A black strat, with a few dents and scratches in the paint. _They probably belonged to that guy at the desk,_ Nikki thought.

When Mick was done only fourty minutes later, he sat back with a stifled groan.

"Take a look," He sighed. He set the gun down as Nikki sat up and looked in the wide mirror. _A bat in the full moon_ , _outlined with fading clouds_.

" _Fuck_ yes. _Badass!_ Thanks dude!" Nikki beamed. _It was perfect_. "Where did you come up with that?" He turned his arm the best he could, glancing back and fourth to see it both in person and reflected back at him.

"You remind me of a bat," Mick smirked. He brought out the bottle that Nikki guessed was to clean the fresh tat. "All dark, mysterious, lonely, flying around in the night with no family."

 _"Hey,_ how do _you_ know I don't have a family?" Nikki bit his lip as Mick cleaned his arm.

"No one gets a first tattoo by themselves."

Micks words were quiet, not taunting in the slightest. It was only sincere, and made Nikki's heart skip a beat. Embarrassment filled his veins, but it was replaced by a _weird_ feeling as Mick looked down at him.

They stared at each other a while.

Nikki sighed, and looked away again.

"Wash this twice a day, or anytime you work up a sweat playing that bass." Mick moved away again.

"How did you know I play bass?"

"The dents on your fingers." Mick met his eyes. _"Too wide for guitar."_

_Such a strange fucking man._

"Well... Thanks again man," Nikki breathed. "I got seventy on me, I hope that covers it."

"Don't worry about it," Mick waved him off. He stood up so Nikki did too. "Just don't tell anyone I gave a free tattoo away either," He laughed softly.

"Fuck, really?" Nikki gasped. He followed Mick to the front door. The tattoo was starting to burn now, but the pain was a comforting rock keeping his high head down. He ignored the interested stare from the rhino man as the two stood to say goodbye.

 _"Really._ Just keep your mouth shut, kid. _Now get out, I'm closed,"_ Mick laughed at him, but it wasn't rude at all. It made Nikki laugh too, and when Mick's hand patted his shoulder as he walked outside, Nikki pretended his heart didn't skip a beat.

"Thanks again!" Nikki called back before Mick closed the door, and then walked away into the night.

 _He was like a bat,_ he thought idly. The cold wind of midnight was comforting on the oozing skin of his new ink.

_But it felt at times he was just falling in the night, rather than flying._


End file.
